Caiden called Leander as soon as he left Zander’s home, since he now had his number. He told his—lover, he supposed—that he wanted to meet Rian. Leander promised to set it up, and half an hour later he called back to say the meeting was on for that evening. “No dinner involved,” he told Caiden, laughing, before giving Caiden an address on St. Charles Avenue. “He expects you at seven.”
“Will you be there?”
“Yes.”
Caiden showed up exactly on time. A slender, blond-haired man—who resembled Zander closely enough that Caiden knew he had to be Rian—opened the door a few seconds after Caiden rang the bell.
“Welcome to my home,” he said. “I am Rian, and you must be Caiden.” He stepped aside to let Caiden come in, before escorting him to what Caiden thought was an overly ornate living room. “Ha
